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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189857">Oblivious</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadat/pseuds/Nadat'>Nadat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Deep Space Nine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:01:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadat/pseuds/Nadat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian is nervous about being sent to a medical conference after he got abducted from the last one, so Garak's sent along to provide protection and peace of mind. He'd like to provide more, but the doctor has been oblivious for years so why should/could that change?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Julian Bashir/Elim Garak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>184</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. There were unfortunately two beds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“And that wasn’t even the peak of Tolkien’s popularity,” Julian continued, smiling widely as he piloted the runabout.</p><p>“Oh, let me guess,” Garak said, keeping his voice very dry so as to not let Julian in on how much he was enjoying the conversation or Julian’s apparent joy. The doctor might have a clue, but Garak certainly wasn’t going to confirm that and make it easy on Bashir. “There’s the holodeck adventure, and you and the Chief have run it many times over.”</p><p>“What, with Miles?” Julian shakes his head as he adjusts the controls. “Miles likes actual battles, real ones. But you’re right on the other front. It’s the number-one bestselling book adaptation of all time. And they’re releasing a new version of it soon, with updated behavioral programming for the enemies and the companions.”</p><p>Bless him, as the humans would say. Julian was far from naive, but he still had a very young and pure happiness to him that was as magnetic as it should have been impossible. Garak both envied and adored it. That, along with the doctor’s rather lovely appearance, was the reason Garak was even on this runabout.</p><p>They were headed to a medical conference, one that Starfleet had decided was too important to cancel even in the middle of the war, one that Julian had been very nervous to go to alone considering what happened the last time he went to a conference. Sisko hadn’t been able to spare any security personnel thanks to how many sweeps for changelings they needed to run, but Garak had been available. And while Dr. Bashir seemed entirely oblivious to the interest Garak had in him, Captain Sisko did not. It was unfortunate. Mostly. Garak didn’t appreciate someone knowing that he might have a weakness, but at the same time it did mean that he was here, with Julian, instead of back in his shop. He didn’t mind sharing this company as he worked on coded communications.</p><p>“And it sounds like you won’t be breaking in and interrupting if I was to run it,” Julian was saying, pulling Garak out of his thoughts. </p><p>Garak looked up from his data padd with a little bit of hope he quickly eliminated. “Is that an invitation, Doctor? It’s rather subtle, for you.” </p><p>Julian sputters, shaking his head. “No, absolutely not. It was an observation, nothing more.”</p><p>“Mm.” Garak gives him his best noncommittal smile. He hadn’t been particularly hooked by the book series, as the whole issue could have been easily solved with a little more murder and subterfuge, and none of the Fellowship seemed really appealing to play in a holodeck, but of late he’d had to force himself into Bashir’s space to find any time with the man. He misses Julian sorely, and this could be an excellent way to initially barge in and then subsequently get invited if he played his cards right. He’s quite proud of his ability to play his cards right.</p><p>“I mean it, Garak, if you--” but Julian doesn’t get the chance to finish whatever he was going to say as they’re hailed and given docking instructions. This, of course, means that he can be entirely ignored.</p><p>In a matter of minutes they’re docked, transported to the hotel, and given their room assignment. Garak isn’t surprised there are two beds, nor can he truly be disappointed when he hadn’t held any hope of a miscommunication in the first place. Yes, it’s entirely likely that everyone on the station except Bashir is aware of his interest, but who is going to set up their untainted young Starfleet doctor with an older exiled Cardassian spy they don’t entirely trust? No one. Except possibly Quark, which is why Garak had helped Quark set up a weekly betting pool on which visitors to the station Julian would pursue. Quark has profit as a reason to not set them up, now. Garak might want to be distracted by Julian, absolutely would enjoy being distracted there, but he can’t afford to actually indulge himself. Cardassia’s freedom is currently at stake.</p><p>“I’ll take… which?” Julian asks. For the first time he does look nervous. It’s likely real, now, that he’s at another conference and they still don’t know how many changelings might be on this side of the wormhole. But this is why Garak is here, and this time his smile is gentle. </p><p>He quickly looks over the room. It’s a fairly basic hotel room decorated in ugly variations of peach, two single-person beds, two small dressers, an efficiently sized bathroom, one closet, one mirror, nothing fancy. Thankfully there’s no door to an adjoining suite, just a door to the outside which he opens up. The small balcony doesn’t connect to any others, and there’s no easy way to climb up or down to it. Though honestly, any real threat would be beamed in, not climbing in by conventional means. What matters here is giving Julian peace of mind.</p><p>With that in mind Garak locks the balcony door and moves decisively to drop his bag on the bed closest to the front door. “Take the other one, my dear. I’ll be here.” Is it safer? No. Neither is going to be safer. But the heating vent is pointed at this bed which means claiming like this will make the both of them more comfortable. He can see some of the tension leave Julian’s body as the doctor sets his own tote down and starts unpacking. Good. </p><p>“Did you have any preferences for dinner?” Julian asks, and Garak is reminded of yet another perk of this trip. He may not get his regular lunches with the doctor anymore, they’ve been rather sporadic of late, but for the duration of this trip he’ll share most meals with this man.</p><p>“Something edible, I think,” he answers. He’s not too picky about food, though he’ll always prefer Cardassian over anything else. Maybe he can offer up one helpful comment instead of simply teasing, though. “Perhaps not the Vulcan place. I’m not fond of their typical flavors.” Or lack thereof. He’d tried a few Vulcan dishes and found them all bland to his tastes.</p><p>“You wouldn’t be,” Julian says with a smile. Garak could almost interpret it as fond. “Perhaps the Andorian place? We could eat on the outdoor patio since I can’t see you being ‘fond of’ their interior design.”</p><p>Garak tilts his head, curious, as he pulls out something that would be suitable for dinner, a tan tunic with appropriately dramatic red slashes and accents.</p><p>“It’s ice,” Julian continues. “Climate-controlled so the whole seating area is made out of ice.”</p><p>“Ah. Yes, let’s try the outdoor seating.” Especially since it’s sunny out and actually nearly warm. The Federation keeps everything far too cold, the station, the Defiant, their runabouts. It’s no wonder the Vulcans generally keep to their own ships. </p><p>Julian nods and glances in the mirror before straightening his uniform top slightly. “I’m ready when you are.”</p><p>Garak pauses, halfway to the bathroom. “You’re wearing that?”</p><p>The doctor’s confused look is unfortunately a not-unexpected answer. He’s hopeless, really.</p><p>“Never mind,” Garak sighs. “I’ll be out in a moment.” He can hear rustling as he changes, but knows better than to think Julian might actually be changing into something a little more, well, anything. Oh, he may be considering it, but he won’t actually change. He won’t see the point. Garak steps out, feeling refreshed, and confirms that indeed, Julian may have looked through his bag and clothing, but hadn’t chosen a different option. He might not even have brought a different option. </p><p>“Shall we, my dear?” Garak asks. Julian glances at the mirror again, still looking a little confused, before he nods. Fashion was lost on everyone in Starfleet, unfortunately.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Plain Simple Dinner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He knows it’s nothing more than dinner to Julian. He’s never behaved as if their meals together are just that, though, so why should he start now? </p>
<p>“All I’m saying is that you could have had a little consideration for the fact that I’m only here for your sake and kept the runabout a little warmer than is typical. It hardly seems too much to ask.” On Cardassia, picking a fight like this would be clear, shameless flirting. But, as always, the good doctor is clueless.</p>
<p>“And what I’m saying is that you should have said something if it bothered you, Garak. Of course I would have compromised. You’re my friend! Just ask next time. And I can adjust the room temperature too.” Kind, compassionate, all-too-human Julian. Perhaps he’s not too-human, but Garak could wish for a little more worldliness than he’s shown thus far. And yet even the start of their sitting-down isn’t without some enjoyment - Julian’s amused, half-smirking smile is one of Garak’s favorites.</p>
<p>“And risk being rude? That’s hardly a Cardassian way to handle things.” They both know there’s no truth to that. Garak can offer up a weak lie for Julian’s amusement.</p>
<p>“Oh, yes. Cardassians are always the most polite of people. Dukat especially is a great model of that,” Julian says, sarcasm filling his voice.</p>
<p>“Julian,” Garak says in mock-dismay, “how could you ever think that Dukat is any sort of model Cardassian? I’m wounded.”</p>
<p>“Gul, then Legate, then leader of his people Dukat? I must be terribly mistaken. Your people must despise him for him to have grown in prominence so rapidly.”</p>
<p>“He was demoted after the revelation that he had betrayed his vows to his wife,” Garak points out, pleased by Julian’s rejoinder and deliberately not showing it.</p>
<p>“Temporarily.” The word gets dragged out as if Julian is tasting every syllable the way he doesn’t tend to taste his food.</p>
<p>Before Garak can perfect a retort, their server arrives. Perhaps it’s for the best, considering talk of Dukat could turn to something actually painful and Garak has no intention of dwelling on that right now. Garak orders the only fish dish on the menu while Julian picks a sandwich. They’re not adventurous choices, to be certain, but he’s never eaten anything Andorian and he’d prefer to ease into it.</p>
<p>“So,” Garak begins, and Julian straightens as if he’s prepared for some defense of Dukat. There is no defense of Dukat in any way, shape, or form, however, so Garak is going to surprise his friend. “Tomorrow. Your first session begins at 08:00, I believe? So breakfast is at 07:00?” That’s far too early to be sitting in a large hall listening to someone drone on, in his opinion. Thankfully he isn’t here to attend any of the sessions. He can do his work wherever he chooses so long as Julian’s surrounded by people who will notice if someone’s suddenly beamed out.</p>
<p>Julian does indeed look briefly surprised, but then he moves on with his characteristic confidence. “Right. We’re discussing Doctor Sinork’s research into helping bodies learn how to fight new diseases off. It’s…” He breaks off with a faint frown before shaking his head and lowering his voice, leaning in conspiratorially. “Honestly, it’s a load of bunk. You can’t expect someone’s immune system to learn how to fight off something new based on what it’s already fought off, antibodies just don’t work like that. They can fight what they’ve fought previously; they’re not intelligent.” </p>
<p>“But you’ll go?” Garak mirrors his quiet voice and lean in. </p>
<p>“Of course I’ll go! His conclusions may be entirely in error, but there’s still something to learn from mistakes. Going means I can help go through the research and see where the conclusions were wrong, and what his results actually mean. I’m here for the science, Garak, the learning, and even incorrect conclusions say something.” He genuinely seems excited about listening to a Vulcan, and it must be a Vulcan, with a name like that, blather on in error. Garak can only wonder at his capacity for finding the silver lining to almost every cloud. He’ll personally stick to putting warm lining in almost every garment, he thinks as he straightens back up.</p>
<p>“Then I’ll join you for breakfast, then go back to bed for a little while because I don’t believe in the self-torture that is early mornings, and see you at lunch after that.” There’s some truth there - the steps are in order, even if they’re not all that he’ll be doing.</p>
<p>Julian blinks at him. “What, you’ll sleep the whole morning away? You?”</p>
<p>“Why not? The climate here might be tolerable, but it’s certainly not built for relaxation. This is made for conferences, and I am not here for conferencing.” Will Julian believe him? </p>
<p>“But…” Apparently the doctor has chosen to be at a loss for words as he looks around. “Maybe it’s not Risa, but it’s certainly not without amenities. There’s riding, the packet conference packet said, and mud baths, and surely there’s something that you’d find enjoyable?”</p>
<p>Interesting. Julian actually seems worried about Garak not enjoying himself. Why might that be? “You don’t find sleep enjoyable?”</p>
<p>“I do. I certainly do. I look forward to sleeping in myself on the last day. I simply…” He trails off again, not a common occurrence. “You came here to keep me safe. I don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting most of your time. I know you’ve work to do but I was hoping that it wouldn’t be all work.”</p>
<p>Yet again Garak finds himself a little surprised and touched. Julian’s trying to look out for him even when the doctor is a little afraid and tense. He’s kind. Garak can’t say he’d be as concerned for a bodyguard if he ever had one along; it’s yet another difference between them.</p>
<p>“Are you saying,” he asks, voice dropping low as he leans in again, eyes very intent on Julian’s, “you want me to find some <i>pleasure</i> during our trip here, my dear?” Julian won’t rise to it, won’t even see it for anything more than teasing, but that’s part of why Garak can’t resist.</p>
<p>Julian colors and he coughs, grabbing his glass of water. “That’s not exactly what I was saying. I simply don’t want you to be bored, that’s all.”</p>
<p>It <i>is</i> all, unfortunately, and well Garak knows that. This obsession of his is absolutely a weakness, but unlike previous obsessions he hasn’t had the opportunity to bang it out of his system. It isn’t even like Julian’s solely attracted to women; if that had been the case maybe Garak could have found a way to shut down this silly fantasy years ago. No, Julian’s attracted to many sorts and none of them are Garak.</p>
<p>“Of course,” he says with smooth calmness that hides every single thing he’s thinking. Garak sits back up to take his own glass of water in hand. “I’m sure I’ll find something to do, doctor.”</p>
<p>There’s a flash of annoyance on Julian’s face, the exact response Garak had wanted. “You really don’t have to call me doctor all the time, you know. I don’t call you tailor.”</p>
<p>“My apologies, I forgot.” Then there are times, like right now, that he’s not sure he’d be able to simply get Julian out of his system. He enjoys Bashir’s reactions to the point he looks forward to them - the aggravation, the flustering, the current glance of suspicion when Julian doesn’t believe for a moment what he’s said - all of them make him happy and that is possibly the most dangerous element in his life. It treads terribly close to sentiment and Garak wonders for the first time if perhaps this trip hadn’t been a wise choice. Surely with some digging Sisko could have found someone else, and Garak could perhaps have used the distance to distance himself a little again. But it’s far too late for thoughts like that.</p>
<p>Julian sighs, apparently forgiving both his word and his latest lie. “Back to the other topic, yes. 08:00 for the first session, and we’ll break at 12:30 for lunch. It’s a buffet, location in the packet I shared with you. We start again at 13:30, and we’ll be done by 18:00. We can decide at lunch where we want to meet for dinner?”</p>
<p>Three meals. Three meals a day for five days, shared with Julian. It’s a veritable bounty that Garak treasures even as he nods as if he’s entirely unconcerned with the precise details or the time they’ll have. </p>
<p>“Perhaps I’ll have found some entertainment by then,” Garak says cheerfully.</p>
<p>“One can only hope,” Julian returns. The food arrives, brought by a rather lovely young Andorian woman, and the doctor clearly notices her. He watches her as she leaves. It’s a good thing, truly. Garak needs these reminders to help him keep his expectations realistic. To help him keep from making a fool of himself.</p>
<p>“You seem to have found some,” he says, voice suggestive.</p>
<p>Julian rolls his eyes and puts down his water. “There’s certainly no time for that, and even if there was, I can hardly invite her back to a shared room, now can I? Besides.” He picks up his sandwich. “Lieutenant Telas is coming back from Vulcan in two weeks, Odo told me. I think I’ve got a shot there.” He gives Garak a grin and bites into his food.</p>
<p>Garak nearly mirrors him, warm smile and bite both, hating the young Bolian woman who’d always been polite enough to him. The rest of the dinner passes smoothly, Garak being affable and pleasant, Julian of course being the same, and before long they’re back in their shared room, in separate beds, ordering the lights off. He’s at peace with this, he reminds himself. He’s fine. At least he has this friendship, and it will, as it has been, be enough.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sentiment Is Still A Weakness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He makes sure to seem groggy and bleary-eyed at breakfast, looking like he wants nothing more than to go curl back up in bed. It’s not that hard when he does enjoy sleeping a little later than this on most days anyway. By the fifth time he’s yawned, Julian is starting to look a little annoyed.</p>
<p>“I do hope I’m not boring you that much,” the doctor says. “There’s raktajino, you know.”</p>
<p>“If I was intending to stay awake for much longer I’d indulge in it.” He offers a placid, sleepy smile before finishing his juice. Julian’s expression shows a great deal of doubt, something that Garak finds rather gratifying. He appreciates when Julian catches on, though perhaps it’s good that he doesn’t catch everything. Perhaps. As humans would say, the jury is still out on that one.</p>
<p>“Right, keep your schedule lazy,” Julian says, voice as doubting as his face as he gathers up his dishes. “I’ll see you at lunch, then. It’s here as well.”</p>
<p>“Ah, thank you for the reminder. I may have gotten lost.” He makes the sarcasm obvious and is rewarded with an eyeroll from Julian. Good. Garak gets up as well and follows the doctor to take care of what they’d used before he’s left to his own devices. </p>
<p>Garak starts with work, deciphering one of the most recent coded Cardassian communiques and it’s unsatisfyingly easy. Without the Obsidian Order to run things the military is handling intelligence, it appears, and the military would need to <i>have</i> intelligence to make it any sort of a challenge. He encodes the revealed message before sending it to his contact in Starfleet Intelligence, and then it sinks in that he has a whole morning to kill. There are no orders he can fill, there’s no actual intrigue happening, his work for the moment is done, and Garak is bored. </p>
<p>With altogether too much optimism, which is barely a shred of optimism, Garak heads for the hotel bar to see what the bartender is like. The premises themselves aren’t entirely promising, a bit on the dingy and darker side, and on top of that there’s no bartender to be seen. Garak can only imagine what Quark would have to say about that. He takes a seat at the counter anyway, watching people. A herd of Andorians trundle past, irritated by something, one Tellarite walks into the bar, looks at him, and walks out. That’s at least enough to catch his eye, and Garak trails the Tellarite for a time… at least, he does until the Tellarite heads into the spa. The inside looks too small for him to be able to pull off any surveillance in there. Everyone else seems rather normal. Oh, they notice him, of course. He’s a Cardassian at a time when all of the ‘good guys’ are fighting Cardassians. He’d think less of anyone who didn’t stare. But it does make for a rather lonely morning, and it means he’s all the more enthused to see Julian for lunch.</p>
<p>“Did you have a good long nap?” Julian asks, smirking, as Garak joins him in line for the buffet.</p>
<p>“It was quite the restful morning, yes,” Garak replies. “Peaceful, even. The rooms may be rather plain, but at least the beds are comfortable enough. Was the lecture as ridiculous as you expected?”</p>
<p>The smirk fades and Julian shakes his head, exhaling. “We have so many intelligent, creative, compassionate minds here, and that’s one of the panels they choose to hold. I understand that they want to give people a fair chance to share their research, but couldn’t they have vetted it even a little bit?” He continues on in the same vein, and Garak lets him, absorbing the salient points while observing the rest of the room. Most of the doctors look a little annoyed, and Garak wonders if they’re annoyed about the same thing as his doctor. No. His charge. </p>
<p>One might think that after fifty years of training he’d be better at this whole keeping-sentiment-out thing. But he’d faltered with Palandine, twice, he’d eventually failed in his interrogation of Odo even though he’d broken him, and he’d foolishly pressed Tain for even a fragment of affection at the man’s passing. Garak is not as good at being detached as he should be or often wished he was. Even the way Nog is now (rightfully) afraid of him stings a little. He <i>should</i> be feared. He’s one of the last remaining former agents of the Obsidian Order, a spy, the son of Enabran Tain. </p>
<p>And yet he cares so very much, too much, about what several non-Cardassians think and feel about him. Sentiment is a weakness and he is weak. Garak realizes Julian’s shifted topics since he doesn’t look quite so annoyed and quickly works to catch back up. </p>
<p>“...Betazoid place, maybe?” Julian was asking. Dinner, of course. </p>
<p>“I’ve never tried their food. Is it any good?” A subjective question, to be sure, but he’s certain Julian at least has an opinion.</p>
<p>“It’s all right. It’s predominantly raw produce, fruits and vegetables, and breads. There’s some variation, particular with shellfish, but I’ve never had it prepared by Betazoids before. Only replicated.” Julian sounded like he was rather interested in trying it. It made Garak wonder if Julian had avoided Betazoids for most of his adult life simply because of the augmentation he was keeping secret, and how he’d kept his mind away from that during Ambassador Troi’s many visits to the station. Garak of course had plenty of techniques to focus his mind away from anything delicate, but he’d also avoided Ambassador Troi (and other Betazoids) as much as possible just to be safe. Now Julian didn’t have to be so careful, but Garak still did. On the other hand, surely he could manage one evening.</p>
<p>“Then I suppose tonight I’ll try Betazoid food, and hope the shellfish is good.” He didn’t mind eating vegetation, but he rather preferred fish.</p>
<p>“Then it’s settled,” Julian says with what looks like satisfaction, and Garak wondered how much he hadn’t heard. Had there been some assurances about Betazoids not reading their minds? He won’t know now. He’ll simply have to act as if he heard everything.</p>
<p>“Do we want to meet there? Or at our room? We could have an opportunity to change for dinner.” He pauses. “So that I can change for dinner, as you probably didn’t pack for that.”</p>
<p>Julian shakes his head. “I’m still amazed at how much luggage you brought, but at least now I know why you needed that many bags. I’ll meet you at the--” He breaks off as a pair of security personnel come in, walking at a pace that suggests something urgent is going on but they’re trying not to set off a panic. They go over to the admiral in charge of the whole conference and after a couple of hasty sentences all three depart. “Room,” he finishes, eyes on the doorway. Garak’s don’t linger there.</p>
<p>“I think I have a task to occupy me once we’re done eating,” Garak says quietly. They’re at the end of the buffet line and he takes Julian’s elbow to steer them to a table. “Just eat, doctor. You’ll be told everything we need to know.” Not we’ll be told, because he doesn’t have faith in the Federation keeping their people informed of what’s going on. Julian will be told, because Garak will find out what’s going on.</p>
<p>Julian looks at him, frowning. He opens his mouth, then clearly thinks better of what he was about to say and nods instead, turning his attention to his food. It’s the smart choice. For a second Garak thought Julian was going to tell him something ridiculous, like ‘be careful’ or ‘don’t dig,’ two very pointless instructions. He’s always careful, and always digging.</p>
<p>For his part, Garak eats with no great haste. By default he stands out here so he needs to give the alarm chance to settle down before he starts to look into things. The meal will give not only time for that, but also time for the news to start to spread. The more people that know, and the more they tell, the more weak spots there are. The more sources there are.</p>
<p>He pulls a datapadd out of a pocket and taps at it, looking entirely unbothered as he scans for anything on civilian news, just in case. Nothing stands out, and he starts carefully prodding at the security network, looking for vulnerabilities as he dips a piece of some unfamiliar brown bread in equally unfamiliar brown sauce. Both are delicious, at least. </p>
<p>“Are you… Never mind. I don’t want to know.” Oh, Julian knows. But if he doesn’t ask, Garak doesn’t have to lie to him. Garak gives Julian a wide smile, more than a little amused.</p>
<p>“I did say to just eat,” Garak says with supreme smugness. He’s rather fond of working in front of Julian, mostly because he runs a fairly high chance of impressing the man. There’s little Garak loves more than showing off and Julian makes such an <i>appreciative</i> audience. Aha, there. Someone on staff has an unsecured file on the network labeled ‘passwords’ that does, indeed, have passwords. He takes one last bite of bread, swallowing before he nods his head toward Julian. “Forgive me, my dear, but there’s something I’d like to look into.”</p>
<p>Julian’s expression is quite the mix of emotions. Garak can’t say he’s ever seen the doctor wear quite that look before. If he had to guess, it’s annoyance, relief, curiosity, and perhaps a little confusion. There might even be some mark of the effort it takes not to ask questions. It’s lovely. Not like Julian is ever anything but lovely.</p>
<p>“Dinner, then,” is all Julian says. Garak bows and hastens out, ready to set up in their room and figure out what’s going on. Perhaps it’s nothing, but at least he has his orders to keep Julian safe as a cover if anyone objects to his activities. He might even charge a consultation fee for the resort - they should really make it harder to get access.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Hacking for Dummies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He sets up in a room that’s two floors above theirs and seven rooms down after watching what rooms housekeeping cleaned and what they didn’t touch. The locking mechanism had proven no challenge, but perhaps considering the resort almost exclusively hosted conferences they expected guests of a more law-abiding sort than him. It’s frustrating. He has to rely on the Federation to help overthrow the Dominion, to help free his homeworld and his people from their occupation, and some places weren’t bothering to step up security. Oh, it isn’t all of them. There are many who were making efforts, and he’s seen more changes and precautions than he was supposed to see. That doesn’t change his momentary frustration.</p><p>But it’s only momentary, because there’s work to be done.</p><p>Getting in the system is easy thanks to the employee’s incompetence. He rather hopes it was an employee and not management - one is more excusable than the other. The third password gets him into the email servers and there’s quite the flurry of activity since about fifty minutes before their lunch was intruded upon. He decides to not click on the one offering fifty thousand bars of gold-pressed latinum from a Ferengi prince and selects instead one titled “Problem?”</p><p>
  <i>Hey, T’Loa, sensor array’s picking up some warp signatures about a day out, only got departures scheduled for tomorrow, any idea what’s up with that? -Jiara</i>
</p><p>A day out. This planet doesn’t seem a likely target of an actual attack - it holds no armament, its location isn’t strategic, there’s no cultural value that would make taking it a blow to morale - but Garak hasn’t lived this long only considering likely possibilities. Further emails show T’Loa asking what seemed to be a superior and up the chain until someone said to pull in Admiral Pavolan, the admiral they’d seen approached. They must have switched to in-person meetings then.</p><p>Garak briefly considers trying to go further into their network, trying to see if any of the passwords will get him access to camera feeds in meeting rooms. Unfortunately, he’s not certain which of the many meeting rooms they might have used, if they even did. That’s too much effort. No, he needs whatever orders have been given since then. If he grants them about thirty minutes to get all together and discuss the problem, that means… there. The one titled “All Hands On Deck.” Dramatic, but it probably caught attention like it was meant to do. It certainly has caught his.</p><p>
  <i>To all staff,<br/>
We know some of you have heard that we may have some unexpected ships approaching. We understand your concerns, and assure you that Starfleet has been notified and we are doing everything to ensure we stay as safe as possible. In return, we ask that you follow the procedures set in place for this, as we’ve reviewed every-other-month:<br/>
First, remain calm. If you are not, the guests will pick up on it, which could cause a panic and make this situation dangerous for them and us.<br/>
Second, prepare for lockdown. You may be called upon to escort guests to their rooms. In case we have to surrender, we don’t want anyone running around who might have the bright idea to sabotage our safety and theirs as a one-person resistance. Make notes of anyone who seems like they might cause issues or property damage.<br/>
Third, if lockdown is called for, once all guests are secured, report to the main office so we can show any visitors we’re all accounted for.<br/>
Remember. Compliance will save lives. Failure to comply with any procedures could mean loss of your jobs and being asked to leave the planet as soon as it’s safe to do so.<br/>
We’re a family, and we should pull together like one.<br/>
Ettick Miler, CEO</i>
</p><p>Well. A lockdown. He has absolutely no intention of complying with that. Or letting Julian comply with it. No. Their names will be recognized if it'sthe Dominion, and their lives will not be safe. He glances around the room, evaluating it. It’s just as bland as theirs, with only the fact that it’s on the top floor to speak for it.</p><p>Garak crosses to the balcony and looks out, trying to see if it has a better view. It doesn’t; the resort is designed to have ‘lovely forest views’ from every window rather than anything useful or tactical. That means none of the bedrooms in the hotel will be suitable. </p><p>The shuttle, then. They can get their things and get to the shuttle and perhaps not escape the planet, they’d likely be tracked, but they could land it and power down somewhere safer. Somewhere they can cause problems. He’ll get Julian, they’ll grab their bags, get to the shuttle, and relocate.</p><p>Decided, Garak gathers up his few things, makes certain that he’s leaving no trace of himself, and leaves the room. The hallway is empty, as is the elevator down to the ground floor. Everything seems as usual in the lobby as well. Clearly no one is frightened yet. That’s good. He needs to get Julian before there’s a panic, without alerting anyone to his alertness, which is the only reason he hasn’t used the communicators.</p><p>He keeps walking with confidence… only to turn to the side when he sees security officers approaching the main conference room ahead of him. Garak steps into a doorway alcove to watch as everyone is escorted out by a mix of hotel security and other hotel employees. He’s too late. </p><p>Garak promptly turns around and heads for the front doors. If he gets to the shuttle he can simply beam Dr. Bashir aboard. Perhaps he should have made that Plan A, but he knows why he didn’t. Sentiment, yet again. He’d wanted to sweep in and escort Julian out in the high-stakes spy way he knows the doctor fantasizes about. Foolish. Dangerously foolish. He’s none-too-pleased with himself, and it only gets worse when he sees the Bolian standing in the way of the front doors trying to both look intimidating and placating at the same time. A slight course correction that should be unnoticeable takes Garak into the hospitality shop where he pretends to peruse through abominable shirts as he waits for the cashier to get distracted enough to try for the backroom. When it doesn’t happen after nearly three minutes of browsing, Garak buys a hideous, overpriced shirt as cover and heads out, toward the back of the building. </p><p>Hallway after hallway shows him the exact same thing - the doors are blocked. He’s getting sloppy and he can clearly hear everything Tain would have to say about this debacle, a full list of everything Garak’s done wrong in the last hour and why he’s brought this on himself. The man’s death does nothing to shut him up, unfortunately.</p><p>Fine. If traditional exits are blocked, there’s still possibly joining Julian and beaming to the shuttle with the doctor’s combadge. There’s also the balcony. He’s not defeated yet just because the easiest option is off the table. It’s still technically on the table, he could take out one of the civilians blocking a door all by themselves, but he thinks that might upset Julian and also possibly Starfleet. And Sisko couldn’t drop the sentence down to simply tampering with Federation equipment this time.</p><p>A not-quite-resigned Garak returns to their rooms to find Julian pacing in the room. The hope that’s briefly in the doctor’s eyes before the door closes behind Garak stings. Julian had believed Garak could do some sweeping rescue, it seems, and Garak sorely dislikes disappointing him. At least he still has ideas. And an abomination of a shirt, which he promptly tosses to the side.</p><p>“Can you get us on board the runabout?” Garak asks.</p><p>“Do you know what’s going on?” Julian asks at the same time, frowning when he hears Garak’s question and tapping his badge. “Bashir to the Yukon, two to beam up.”</p><p>Garak braces, a little dismayed to leave his bags behind, and then far more dismayed when nothing happens. Julian repeats the order, and this time Garak catches the little sound Starfleet combadges make when they can’t establish a connection. </p><p>“Balcony trip it is, then,” he says, before Julian reaches out to stop him, hand on Garak’s upper arm.</p><p>“What’s going on, Garak?”</p><p>There should be time. If the signatures are a day away, they definitely have time. Maybe it’s not the best tactical decision to stop and explain, but he’s on such a roll of poor tactical decisions, why should he stop now? The only reason he really hesitates is because he doesn’t want to stress Julian, but escaping will be easier with the doctor’s brain on the case as well.</p><p>“They detected several unexpected warp signatures a day out and apparently ordered a lockdown so they can surrender easily and peacefully. But while that may go smoothly enough for most of them, it will not for us. So you can see why we should get out of here and to the shuttle as quickly as possible.” As he talks, he’s pulling the blankets off the bed and tying them together. It’s excessively low-tech and quite obvious, but unfortunately he hadn’t exactly packed the means to escape out a balcony window. That too was short-sighted. He’ll pack better next time.</p><p>“That’s not going to work,” Julian says.</p><p>Garak stops and looks up at him. The doctor crosses over to the balcony door and opens it up, revealing the shimmer of a forcefield against the opening. Garak exhales, trying to think of new options.</p><p>“I checked as soon as they herded me here and locked the door behind me,” Julian continues, coming over to sit on the bed Garak had just been stripping. “I don’t suppose you have any other ideas?”</p><p>“There’s shorting out the forcefield, pretending medical distress so they evacuate us, though you’ll have to pretend to be the injured party for that one,” he begins, ticking off his fingers, “or we short out the door lock, head out into the hall, and I eliminate the employee watching this hall. Then we go down the stairs, I eliminate one more, and we exit out a side door. Which of the three do you prefer?”</p><p>“Let’s take the last option off the list,” Julian says firmly, much as Garak expected.</p><p>“For now?” Garak knows the answer, but he wants to hear it anyway.</p><p>“For good. We’re not going to kill civilians who are simply trying to survive, especially when the Dominion will know they can get a good price for ransoming us back.”</p><p>A good price on Julian, certainly, while they'd have other intentions for Garak. But he doesn’t voice the thought. He doesn’t want to bring down the doctor with reality quite yet. Instead, he goes to his larger back and pulls out his clothing, spreading it on his bed. Carefully he starts pulling specific threads out of various garments before spinning the results into a thin wire. At least he can still put on something of a show, and the doctor looks duly impressed when Garak continues, extracting a few pieces from the frame of his suitcase as well to make exactly what he needs to short out a medium-sized forcefield. The show is entirely shameless.</p><p>“Wait,” Julian says, and Garak pauses, wondering what the new objection is.</p><p>“For?” There’s no point in waiting.</p><p>“What if we speak with the hotel administration instead of taking out what might double as needed defenses should the approaching force be Dominion and not inclined to accept surrender?”</p><p>Garak stares at him, waiting for the punchline. When it doesn’t come he blinks. “Talk. You would like to talk to them and alert them to the fact that we’re not all right with being held and turned over, giving them time to outflank us further.” Is talking all the Federation does?</p><p>“I’m suggesting communication, and a peaceful way to get everyone what they need.” Julian no longer looks impressed. In fact, he looks stern, like he’s already decided this is the way they’re doing things.</p><p>Briefly Garak contemplates tying the doctor up and stuffing him in the closet, out of the way, until he can smuggle him out, but he’s stopped by one thought: he doesn’t know if Julian is <i>physically</i> augmented too. If he tries a direct assault and fails, Julian may be too on guard for Garak to win by subterfuge the next time. Surrendering now should make matters easier when Garak has to take charge.</p><p>“We’ll try things your way, in that case. This <i>is</i> a Federation world. But we’ll try things my way if yours doesn’t work.” Garak says. Too much of a surrender would make Julian suspicious as well, so voicing that he’s still thinking about doing things his way should make Julian trust that Garak will communicate with him. Trusting people are generally easy to manipulate, but Julian’s alterations make him a challenge. Which is quite all right. Garak enjoys a challenge.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Matter of Application</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To his complete lack of surprise, no one answers Julian’s call for the resort administrator. They don’t answer at guest relations either, or even the after-hours emergency maintenance line. As he waits for Julian to give up, Garak is stripping sheets off the bed and cutting them into strips. Should they still not be able to establish communications with the Yukon when the forcefield is down they’ll have a way to the ground. </p><p>By the time Garak’s done, Julian is still going. Garak shoots him an annoyed look that’s entirely ignored. He’d like to get out of here as soon as possible, and that’s not going to happen as long as the doctor believes making useless calls is some sort of helping. After allowing himself a few seconds to be irritated, Garak starts moving his favorite pieces of clothing to the easiest bag to carry. It keeps him busy enough until Julian finally sinks back into his chair with a heavy sigh.</p><p>“For what it’s worth, I <i>am</i> sorry they’ve ignored you, my dear,” Garak gallantly lies.</p><p>Julian sighs again. “I know that they’re likely very worried, and even probably dealing with a deluge of messages, but I’m Starfleet and familiar with the Dominion. Surely they’ve heard of me.”</p><p>“I’d hope they would have heard of all of their attendees,” Garak says. They had to have some security measures in place that weren’t simply standing in front of doors. </p><p>“Yes, but…” Julian trails off and shakes his head. Garak can only imagine how disappointed he feels; Julian believes in the Federation and this is a system on a Federation world that’s failing them. “I suppose we’re trying it your way. The non-lethal variation of your way.”</p><p>“Of course.” Of course they were. One day the doctor will lose more of his naivete, though Garak’s not looking forward to that day. Already captivity had been hard on his friend and Garak doesn’t enjoy seeing Doctor Bashir hurting. No, that sort of dark pleasure he reserves for the very few he hates. It’s sweeter, that way.</p><p>Garak lines the wires up just short of the forcefield, positioning them so that there are enough points of contact to short it out without it being so many the resultant flash of heat sets the room on fire. It’s a delicate balance, made all the more tricky by how he’d had no time to study the capabilities of this resort before. Normally he’d want to do research before attempting this. They don’t have time today. Finally they’re lined up and he steps back, taking a breath as he does the math again based on it being a building-sized, Federation-based forcefield. It’s so terribly imprecise.</p><p>“Take a step back, if you will, doctor,” he says, following his own advice. Julian follows suit, looking dubious.</p><p>“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”</p><p>Garak gives Julian his most customer-facing smile, flat and empty and pleasant enough for the loudest of complainer and blinks. “How could I? I’m a simple tailor, my dear, nothing more. I hope I can unravel this particularly tricky seam, but it’s all guesswork.” He doesn’t even need to sound sarcastic so he doesn’t bother, letting his words carry it all.</p><p>Julian exhales and waves a hand. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, but Garak’s hardly paying attention now. </p><p>The Cardassian kneels and pushes the wire threads forward and into contact. There’s a satisfying sputtering for the forcefield as it flickers, and then it flares before vanishing, overloaded. Garak doesn’t have time to shoot Julian a triumphant look before a second forcefield sparkles into existence around the place, sending blue sparks rushing along the wires to his hands. </p><p>Incredible pain accompanies his jerk back - too late. Too slow. There’s the smell of something burning and it takes him a second to register that at least he didn’t set the room on fire. He only set his hands ablaze, that’s all. There’s noise and movement and then the fire is out; apparently one of them isn’t kneeling and staring in horror. </p><p>“Easy,” Julian says, voice cutting through the static in Garak’s ears. He presses a hypospray to Garak’s neck, the only doctor Garak would allow that close without warning, and the pain starts to subside. </p><p>It’s a dangerous thing, shock. He’s numb in more ways than one, brain sluggish when they might need to move, unable to think further ahead despite how much danger they may well be in. If anyone can trace the attempt to their rooms, security could arrive and eliminate any other chances they have of making it out. But he can’t get his tongue to move or his voice to creak out. All he can do is stay on his knees and watch the doctor coat his hands in a sort of gel before taking a pair of the strips that were intended for their escape and wrapping it over the wounds, protecting them, giving the gel time to do its work.</p><p>“Garak?” Julian says when he’s done, concern written clearly in both voice and expression. Not that Garak would have expected otherwise even with how he’d just been mocking the doctor’s doubt of him.</p><p>“I believe that’s still my name,” Garak manages, voice strained. The pain isn’t entirely gone, and now the remnants are joined with frustration and dismay. A second forcefield? Should he have seen that coming? Who invests in a second? Diplomatic buildings, yes, but convention centers? It could be due to the war, but the cost… Next time Garak’s heading for a hotel for any reason he’s going to research the place thoroughly. Sisko can take the shoddy information he’d supplied and shove it somewhere the stars don’t shine. Preferably up Dukat.</p><p>“Let’s move you to the bed,” Julian says gently. He’s treating Garak like he’s injured and the Cardassian almost bristles before remembering that he is. </p><p>“I’m fine on the floor.” He can feel movements better down here, despite how sluggish his brain is being due to the pain. If there’s a whole lot of running footsteps they’ll have a few moments warning before, well. Before Julian probably surrenders with no fight and Garak has to do the same because his hands are hurt. “How long does the gel take to work?”</p><p>Julian frowns, which transforms into something stern. It’s a lovely expression on him except for the fact that his determination is now focused on Garak. “We’re moving you to the bed.” There’s no room for argument in Julian’s voice and he takes Garak by an elbow with care and urges him upward. “Lean against me if you need it.”</p><p>Whether he needs it or not is unclear. Also unclear is if he wants the support or not. It could be a lovely excuse to lean into the doctor, but at the same time he doesn’t want to seem weak. The Jem’hadar could be here at any moment and he needs to not give reason for Julian to doubt him. </p><p>Not again, at least, he thinks, glancing down at the wires. Julian follows his gaze and kicks them out of the way as they get to their feet. Garak is not leaning on Julian, urge to not seem too vulnerable winning over everything else. He’s been taught far too well to hide any weakness to give in now. Oh, it could gain him something temporarily nice, but it could also lower him in the doctor’s eyes and he so deeply doesn’t want that.</p><p>“How long does the gel take?” he asks again as he sits carefully on the bed before starting to scoot back, planning on using the headboard like the back of a chair.</p><p>The repeated question gets him a deeper frown from the doctor. What, had Julian thought Garak would simply rest? The Dominion is coming. They need contingency plans. They need any plans, to be frank. The Yukon would be noticed where it was, noticed, noted, and guarded, like any other Starfleet vessel would be, and Garak is far too invested in surviving to give up simply because of an injury.</p><p>“About three hours,” Julian says, gaze wary. “Which means you’ll at least be resting those three hours, Garak, if you want full functionality in your hands after that. Which I think you do.” </p><p>Three hours. They’d already eaten up too much time with Julian’s attempt at negotiations and now he had to sit idle for three hours? Julian’s eyes narrow and Garak wonders how much of what he’s thinking the doctor is guessing at. Sometimes Julian knows him too well. And sometimes he doesn’t know Garak enough.</p><p>The intercom system crackles to life, startling them both and preventing Julian from saying whatever he’d been about to say.</p><p>“Attention all guests. We understand you are confused and upset, and we apologize sincerely for this. We have some unexpected traffic on our sensors so we’ve secured everyone in rooms for your safety and ours. We hope to have this straightened out quickly. In acknowledgment of your discomfort, we’re giving everyone a complimentary dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow, and trust that this will all be cleared up shortly after that. Your room consoles will show the full menu we’re offering, and we ask that you please refrain from any further attempts to weaken the security protecting us and you.”</p><p>The message ends and Garak sits there, weighing the last sentence more heavily than the rest. </p><p>“We weren’t the only ones trying something,” he says slowly. “There are more than us trying to escape, because otherwise they would have said that portion to us alone, directly.”</p><p>“I really don’t think I want to ask what that means,” Julian says, getting up and firing up the console to see the food selection. Of all times to be focusing on food… but of course he is. He’s Starfleet, after all. Garak can’t expect Starfleet officers to be thinking of the possible ways the Dominion would be underhanded and cruel.</p><p>“It means, doctor,” he decides to continue, “that if we should stage an escape attempt successfully, there will be others on the run as well. Those in charge won’t know where to turn and it will increase the chances of more of us getting away. What we need to do is find a way to determine who they are, and coordinate efforts.”</p><p>Julian turns away from the console looking cross. “And then what? Get you more injured? Garak. We tried your way and you’re hurt! I’m supposed to back you up in getting more hurt? Or possibly killing civilians who are under orders to keep us in our rooms? No. You’re here on Starfleet business, and we’re getting out of here in a peaceful way. Now. Do you have a type of dish you’d prefer? It looks like they have a large selection and you’re not going to be able to scroll through it.”</p><p>“Dish?” he repeats, incredulously. “Are you truly planning on staying here through dinner?”</p><p>“Dinner, according to the message at the top, is an hour away, so yes. I do. I will prevent you from doing anything until your hands are healed at the very least, Garak.”</p><p>He’s tempted to take the doctor up on the unspoken challenge. Very tempted. Ever since Julian had been revealed as augmented Garak had wondered exactly how much more capable he was, how much more formidable. It’s Garak’s first chance to really test it. But his hands are something he needs for his work, both tailoring and spying. He can’t risk them.</p><p>Garak exhales and settles back against the headboard, looking and feeling cross. “Chocolate.”</p><p>A little amusement softens the judgment on Julian’s face. “I’ll order dessert for you. But what do you want as a main dish?”</p><p>At least he can still share meals with the doctor, even if these are not the circumstances he’d like to share them under, by any means.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sorry for how long this chapter took to come out. I veered off my outline and got a little lost, but finally put together a new one and am planning on updating every Thursday until the end just to keep myself accountable and going. Thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Give and a Take</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When their dinners arrive, Garak watches the door. He can see the side of an arm just outside, and a guard behind the waiter as the cart’s pushed in. There aren’t any other shadows to suggest more people, and the positioning backs up his theory. Two guards. He could take out two with his hands as they are, but if they called for backup he might be in trouble. They’re going to have to wait for breakfast, he decides, fully knowing the ‘they’ is probably just him. Julian won’t be on board with attacking them, even to save their own lives. Even to save Garak’s life.</p><p>Julian helps the waiter set the food on the table as Garak watches, hands underneath a pillow. The wires and other signs of Garak’s activities had been tucked away shortly after they’d put in their order. There’s no reason to alarm the staff any more than they already are. Especially when it’s entirely possible that the attack on the forcefield couldn’t be directly traced. That’s the secondary reason for using a method like that.</p><p>Once the door closes again Julian comes over to help Garak up but the Cardassian manages on his own, rocking himself to the edge of the bed and getting to his feet. He nudges the chair out with his foot and then hop-scoots it forward. He may look ridiculous, but he’s not going to make the doctor think he needs help. </p><p>Except he does need help, he realizes as he looks down at his plate. He has no idea how to feed himself with bandaged hands.</p><p>Julian’s already scooted over, clearly anticipating this. “So do Cardassians feed their young with shuttle noises too?” He’s grinning as he starts cutting the meatballs on Garak’s plate. Grinning. </p><p>“I beg your pardon?” Garak asks, having a terrible feeling he knows where this is going.</p><p>“You know,” Julian says, twirling some of the pasta up and stabbing a meatball portion to keep it in place. “Vroom vroom, open up and let the shuttle dock?” He’s ‘flying’ the fork as he speaks, looking absolutely delighted with himself. If Garak wasn’t quite so proud he’d think it cute, but as it is he’s rather affronted.</p><p>“No,” he says shortly, keeping his mouth otherwise closed and his back straight. He wants Julian to see him as desirable, not as a toddler.</p><p>Julian shakes his head, still looking pleased with himself as he holds out the forkful. “Come on, Garak. Why not have a little fun with this? It can’t be every day that you get fed dinner by a lovely young man.”</p><p>“Of course it is,” Garak retorts. Julian’s confidence in himself is additionally lovely, and Garak’s not about to poke at that so it’s the other he’ll take on. “Why, just last week I had two ensigns at my place, competing to see who was the most appealing. I chose the Bolian; I happen to be fond of his belligerence.” He’s fond of his own belligerence, the only fraction of truth to be found in there.</p><p>Julian snorts. “Take a bite, Garak, so I can take a bite of my own.”</p><p>Garak hmphs before leaning forward and taking a bite, feeling fairly self-conscious. Julian doesn’t seem bothered in the least by having to feed a patient, but Garak doesn’t like that he needs this. It’s difficult to let people help him when he genuinely needs personal help, just like it was difficult to let Julian tend him while he was dealing with claustrophobia as he tried to free them. Tain had taught him a great deal about letting down his guard - mostly that it would result in pain at best and how much pain could be inflicted during the slightest slip. That Julian would probably not betray him doesn’t change much about this. He is not, no matter how Garak would enjoy it, Julian’s true ally. Cardassia comes first for him, and Starfleet comes first for Julian. That is the nature of their worlds, their temporarily overlapping spheres, and Garak would be well-served to remember that. Somehow. While the doctor’s warm eyes are dancing with delight as he gladly helps out the Cardassian he believes is his friend.</p><p>The bites get easier as the meal goes on, with them managing a little bit of conversation about the food. No planning, just yet. Garak feels that Julian will be more receptive when the gel has done its work and Garak is no longer a patient. Dessert is accompanied by light teasing that Garak is careful not to put too much into. This, he wouldn’t mind Julian feeding him under normal circumstances. That makes it dangerous. Julian doesn’t seem like he’s reading anything serious into it, which is hardly a surprise. It’s also yet another reminder, as if Garak needed more. They’re too close here. If he’s asked to escort the doctor again he’s going to need to turn it down; his guard has been weak ever since Julian shot him in the holodeck and he can feel it faltering further with the care Julian is showing.</p><p>By the time they’re done Garak feels like he’s somehow made his way through a minefield. Meanwhile Julian looks like he’s having fun and Garak wishes he knew what the doctor was thinking. How can humans tease like this among friends? It would be either entirely insulting or entirely flirtatious if a Cardassian poked at him half as much, and for not the first time their cultural differences stand in stark outline.</p><p>“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Julian asks, gathering up their plates and coming back for the silverware before he stops. “I thought we were past attempting sabotage since that plan didn’t work out.”</p><p>“Whatever do you mean?” asked Garak innocently, knife already fumbled successfully into the inner pocket of his jacket.</p><p>“It’s blunt, Garak. You can’t stab someone with it.” His expression is… odd. There’s resignation in it, but also perhaps a little amusement? Or is it something else? Julian is so often easily readable that the exceptions are fascinating in themselves.</p><p>Garak smiles. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I could stab someone with a great many things, blunt or otherwise. Anything could be a stabby thing, my dear.”</p><p>Julian sighs. “Garak. There were two of everything and now there’s only one knife. Even Molly could have picked up on the fact that one’s missing.”</p><p>“But perhaps not the Chief,” Garak teases, trying to get the doctor just a little annoyed and distracted.</p><p>It doesn’t work. Julian holds out his hand. Garak looks at it, looks at Julian’s face, and sits back.</p><p>“I’m sorry, doctor,” he says, “but I’m not giving it to you.” Julian opens his mouth, probably to argue, and Garak holds up a bandaged hand to interrupt. It’s probably not helping his case, but at least the doctor is waiting.</p><p>“They’ll ransom you to Starfleet, no doubt, but--”</p><p>“But nothing.” Obviously the bandaged hands aren’t as effective as without. That’s little surprise. “Sisko knows how invaluable you are, and so does Starfleet intelligence. They’ll ransom you too.”</p><p>Garak waits, smiling, in case Julian has more of an argument to make. When he doesn’t continue, the Cardassian tilts his head. “You’re assuming they’d be offered the opportunity. But you’re forgetting the internment camp.”</p><p>Now it’s Julian’s turn to wait, but Garak wants him to think about it and then ask. That’s the only way the point will be made.</p><p>“What am I forgetting about it? Beyond the fact that I don’t forget anything.”</p><p>“They came into our little dormitory to kill me, Julian. The Founder leader knows I was in the fleet that attacked what we thought was their homeworld and has a personal vendetta, a bone to pick, if you will. There’s a fair chance, considering how easily they’ve infiltrated everything else, that they know I’m assisting Starfleet Intelligence. Why would they give me back? Why would they take that risk? The Founders have been exceptionally tactical, and my death would tie up any number of loose ends.”</p><p>Julian’s earnest expression fades as Garak talks, becoming more sober. </p><p>“I’m not asking you to stop having faith in your Starfleet, doctor,” Garak continues. “I’m asking you to consider that they might not have a chance to prove themselves. Especially when it can simply be said that Cardassia is dealing with a criminal, an exile, one of her own.”</p><p>There’s a few moments of silence. Garak has made his point and while sometimes it’s fun to drive it home, he’s already had to make it far more bluntly than he’d usually like due to time constraints. They have until approximately lunchtime tomorrow to get out, or at least he does, and what time he can save he needs to.</p><p>Finally Julian gets up and brings the plates back, setting them where they were and nodding.</p><p>“All right. We didn’t clear away the dishes yet, we didn’t notice something was missing. But now what, Garak? This shield and the surrender is going to protect most of the hotel’s guests. How do we protect everyone?”</p><p>At the very least he’s lucky to count Julian as a friend. There’s something quite rewarding about this honestly optimistic young man offering up his full faith to someone who rarely makes the truth a clear matter. </p><p>“I need to get into the console,” Garak says, nodding at it. “I need to access their messaging systems, first to see if there’s an opportunity to send an outgoing message, and then if that fails to see if we can create a revolt internally. It is fair that you believe surrender will protect people here, doctor, but we are at war. The valuable ones may well be ransomed. The rest? The workers that you were so determined I not kill? Can you see the Dominion having a reason to keep them alive when they don’t use resorts, don’t seek out comforts, and want to quell any chance of rebellion?”</p><p>Honest, optimistic, and therefore fairly easy to manipulate in matters of saving lives. It’s a shame that Garak has to use what he knows of Julian against him. Oh, if somehow this manipulation saves everyone’s lives then Julian will be unbothered, but if it only saves theirs? Will this be the line that Julian finally can’t forgive if only Garak and Julian escape?</p><p>He doesn’t have an answer right now. And clearly Julian hasn’t picked up on what Garak’s doing because the doctor crosses over to look at the console.</p><p>“Tell me what to do until we get those off your hands,” Julian says, one of the most beautiful sentences ever spoken in the galaxy and possibly the first crack in the glass of their friendship. Only time would tell.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. In His Hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Julian is a doctor, not an engineer, but at least it turns out his hands are clever enough that he can mostly follow Garak’s instructions. There are plenty of frowns and glances shot back at Garak during the process of getting into the console and rewiring it so Garak has more access to the system, but at least he helps. And really, the glances are unnecessary. Julian knows who and what he is, or mostly does. They’re purely for drama.</p><p>On second thought, he’s really not one to criticize someone else for being dramatic.</p><p>“Like that?” Julian says as he secures the last wire in place. Garak leans in despite how he’s been watching every move Julian’s making and knows it’s correct. Getting in Julian’s personal space is a personal hobby at this rate. As is being disappointed by what they can and can’t do here; there was no way they could get a message to the shuttle from this console.</p><p>“That should do it,” he says slowly. Now for the difficult part. Garak is not a dissident. Garak has spent his life being on the opposite side as dissidents, even. But now he needs to stir people to action against those in authority and do it without being caught.</p><p>“Pull up the interface display,” Garak continues. “We’re going to need to send a message out.”</p><p>Julian does so, hitting the right keys before looking back at Garak and waiting. This would be so much easier if Garak could do the typing.</p><p>“My fellow prisoners,” he dictates, pausing for Julian to start typing. </p><p>“The whole thing, Garak.” His expression is serious. Garak is being weighed here. “You know I won’t forget any of it, and I want to know exactly what it is we’re asking others to do before I send anything out. There are a lot of civilian doctors at this conference. We’re not all Starfleet.”</p><p>Very briefly Garak considers acting hurt by Julian’s mistrust, but he knows it won’t get him anything that he wants. If anything, it would probably make Julian more suspicious rather than less.</p><p>“Very well,” Garak says with a bow of his head. “My fellow prisoners, we are currently being held hostage on a world that’s virtually defenseless as an unknown force approaches. They have decided to offer us up. I don’t intend to go quite so gently into that good night. If you would care to assist in breaking free and forming a rudimentary resistance, let me know by stomping on the ground. This will not give away your location, but it will give me an idea of our numbers. Included are directions for altering your own console to send messages, but know that there will not be much time. I’ll send a second message if there sounds to be enough support for this venture.” He stops talking and tilts his head, waiting for the doctor’s verdict.</p><p>“But what are we going to ask them to do?” Julian asks. “What comes after the stomping?”</p><p>“Really?” A part of Garak is affronted. Julian clearly has no faith in him. The other part is proud because of course Julian doesn’t when Garak had been fine with killing civilians in their path only hours earlier.</p><p>“Elim. I need full disclosure. Whatever we do, <i>we’re</i> doing. This means I have to be fine with it as well.”</p><p>Garak makes a show of sighing as he scoots back on the ground so he can lean against the bed. He's trying very hard not to think about that 'we.' Julian would make a fascinating partner for one of Garak's former types of missions, but his morals would almost certainly get in the way at every turn. Julian would make a fascinating partner in many ways. It's truly a wonder Starfleet Intelligence hadn't tried to recruit him away from medicine. Yet. Unless they had, and they'd been turned down, a very likely possibility. “Very well, if you insist. They’re going to open the directions and several will attempt to break into the consoles. Some will do it right. Some will not. Those who do not will start several electrical surges and issues throughout the hotel that the hotel will rush to address, and it should bring down the forcefield. If it does not, it could still get us evacuated. If that does not work, our second message will have instructions for overloading the system.”</p><p>“You don’t think they’d shut down the consoles before you have a chance to send that?”</p><p>Garak opens his mouth to reply and then stops to give the question due consideration. When he speaks, his voice is thoughtful. “I wouldn’t at most places; most staff seems reactive rather than proactive. But they do have a second forcefield and they did have the doors watched rather quickly. Let’s edit the message. ‘Included are instructions to alter your own console so you can communicate with others here, but we may not have time so at the very end are instructions for how to overload the console.’ Then they’ll have all of the information and also an idea to go off of if we’re cut off.”</p><p>“Right.” Julian doesn’t move to put the message in.</p><p>“Doctor?”</p><p>“If fires are started, if people get zapped, there could be injuries that I would be helping cause. Some of them could be serious.”</p><p>He understands, a little. The doctor is a gentle soul, and that would weigh heavily upon him. Julian would be as easy to break as Kelas had been and Garak doesn’t want him broken. What is it with doctors? </p><p>“Yes,” Garak says. Pushing the point, reminding the doctor that he could die, might be too much pressure for this moment. Julian frowns at him as if wanting more of an argument. But this choice must be made by Bashir, not Garak. He has to have the option to back out. At last the doctor shakes his head and turns to start typing.</p><p>“Do you think they can trace where the message is coming from when we send it?” Julian asks as he works.</p><p>“Oh, undoubtedly. All the more reason to have people stomping to make noise and hacking in to send more messages and disrupt the network. We need distraction.”</p><p>“Could they stop this <i>and</i> catch us?”</p><p>“Anything’s possible, doctor. But I think it unlikely.”</p><p>“Why?” Julian stops typing to look back at Garak. “You’ve already underestimated the precautions they’d taken. Why do you think that this won’t backfire as well?”</p><p>Garak smiles. “Oh, I think it’s entirely possible it will backfire. But not like that. You see, my dear, to catch us, they need their system working. To stop us, they need to take it down. They can’t do both. And I think it far more likely that they’ll prioritise shutting down the system over catching us. We’re not a true threat, yet. They’ll think us contained.”</p><p>“Won’t we be?”</p><p>“Not if whatever’s interfering in communicating with our shuttle is taken down with these communications.”</p><p>Julian resumes typing, but it was clear he was thinking this over. “So it’s not actually a revolt. You’re not turning these people into your allies. They’re to be your tools.”</p><p>“Precisely, doctor.” He’s pleased Julian sees it.</p><p>“They’re my colleagues.”</p><p>“And some of them are fools who don’t know how the immune system works but made you sit through hours of droning on about misapprehensions anyway.”</p><p>There’s a flash of a smile on Julian’s face that's quickly gone before he shakes his head. “I don’t want them hurt, Garak. That's now how I operate.”</p><p>“If the hotel hurts their guests in an attempt to keep them safe, they won’t get any business through the rest of the war at the very least and they know that. <i>They’re</i> going to operate with attention paid to the bottom line, trust me.”</p><p>“Now I know it’s bad when you’re telling me to trust you.”</p><p>“And yet you’re following my instructions.”</p><p>“And yet,” Julian confirms before he stops typing. “Should we wait to send this until we can unwrap your hands? Or do you want it sent now?”</p><p>It’s a very good question. But it’s also moot, Garak realizes. Either they’re tracked and have no means to defend themselves against security’s weapons, the system is shut down and they accomplish nothing, or they beam out and Julian can fly the shuttle. Garak’s hands are not needed in this moment. He is, in fact, entirely in the doctor's hands.</p><p>“Send it.”</p><p>With a deep breath, Julian nods and pushes the button.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. There Was Only One Bed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An attempt is made, and names are said.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I want to apologize for how long it's been since I last updated. I've been officially published and had a short story win an award since then, but I do want to get this moving a little faster.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Julian was clearly tense as they waited, right after the message went out. Garak could see it in his frame, his eyes, even his breathing. A wonder how readable he was, truly. It wasn’t always the case, and Garak knew better than to try to figure out what made the doctor want to open up more. He wouldn’t be able to help himself if he had that key.</p>
<p>For his part, Garak was calm. He’d been in far more difficult situations and made his way out of them. What mattered was keeping his head and not getting distracted by the doctor or what he’d like the doctor to see of him. It would also certainly help if he had the use of his hands, but he was rather good at being patient. </p>
<p>Then the stomping began.</p>
<p>It was a rumbling that he wasn’t sure of quite at first, but the accompanying pings of messages coming in confirmed it. They were ready to be a distraction. How very useful of these people. He almost could feel sorry for using them, but he’d grown rather attached to being alive.</p>
<p>The next sign was a banging noise accompanied by the flicker of the forcefield. It was important to not get too caught up in hope, but Garak couldn’t help see this as anything other than positive. Another bang, another flicker, and the fire alarm came on, a keening, piercing noise that he utterly despised. He really should have requested Julian bring along migraine medication in case, but pre-admitting that he might need medical help was a step he wasn’t ready to take.</p>
<p>The comm unit flickered this time. He could hear a sound, some sort of buildup, and braced. </p>
<p>“Get ready, Doctor.”</p>
<p>Julian grabbed the bag Garak had repacked. A good move, actually, since some of the sprinklers in their room burst into life and sprayed half the space down, including where the bag had been sitting. That had not been the plan, but it wouldn’t matter as long as the forcefield went down.</p>
<p>It did not. Instead the comm unit shut off. A few moments later both siren and water stopped as well but the damage was done. The room was half-drenched, the comm unit was unusable, and the forcefield was still up. Redundancies upon redundancies, unfortunately. Garak idly wondered if other members of his Order had been here once upon a time and the resort had learned. </p>
<p>The doctor looked at him and Garak wished he hadn’t. There would be a question in those lovely brown eyes and Garak had only unsuitable, unacceptable answers. He had failed. Living among Starfleet and Bajorans had rendered him entirely incompetent and he was as disgusted at himself as he knew Tain would be. Above all else, Garak had been a survivor. Now, because of sentiment yet again, Garak would be caught. </p>
<p>“Garak?” Julian’s voice was far gentler than it should be. Kind. Garak despised the mercy shown. He would far rather be castigated here than entirely forgiven, but for that he should have accompanied Worf somewhere. </p>
<p>“I don’t know,” he admitted. </p>
<p>Julian sat down on the bed with him, half-turned to him. It was Garak’s own fault that there was compassion in his eyes. If he hadn’t told the doctor the risk to him, Julian would still be heckling him and not worried. Garak despised people worrying for him.</p>
<p>“The good news is that no one’s knocking down our door,” Julian offered, clearly trying to keep the mood light.</p>
<p>Garak would allow it. This was its own sort of lying, ignoring the truth of circumstances to pretend things would be all right, and it was one humans seemed particularly skilled at.</p>
<p>“And perhaps the disappointing news. I <i>would</i> like a beverage or two delivered right about now.” This, he was capable of doing. Smiling through everything was a skill introduced to him by Palandine and he rather enjoyed practicing it.</p>
<p>“A shame we didn’t have glasses ready,” Julian returned, scooting back so he was sitting on the bed next to Garak now. “They delivered plenty of water.”</p>
<p>Normally Garak would have a joke ready, but his brain was currently in the process of shutting down. Obviously Julian meant nothing by sitting with him. He couldn’t, not with how easily he’d done it. And they’d sat this close before, on the couches in that dreadful spy program. But this was no couch.</p>
<p>“I was thinking something a little more refined, doctor,” Garak managed.</p>
<p>“Well. The next time they drop by we’ll have to put in for a special order. It’s hardly our fault the comm units are all down.” Julian’s smile was small, and the look in his eyes was still far too kind for Garak’s taste. He wasn’t distracted. No. He was listening, actively. There was something to his expression that said he was trying to calculate a way out for Garak even as he joked. How was it that he saw what Garak didn’t want seen while entirely missing what Garak wouldn’t mind him noticing?</p>
<p>He knew how, actually. It was very simple. Why would one see attraction from someone they’re not attracted to?</p>
<p>“You’re not here,” the doctor said, drawing him from his thoughts.</p>
<p>“I don’t know what you mean. I’m clearly sitting right here.”</p>
<p>“You know exactly what I mean. Your thoughts were light-years away.” The attempts at joking were done, now, it seemed, and Garak was to blame for that. A shame. Then again, he was to blame for most of what had transpired in this misadventure. What was one thing more?</p>
<p>“It’s nothing, my dear.” </p>
<p>That bought him a few moments of silence, but there were several things one could count on with Dr. Julian Bashir. One was for him to be entirely overinvested in shattering a perfectly good silence all too prematurely.</p>
<p>“She has bigger fish to fry, you know. The female Founder.”</p>
<p>Garak knew enough human idioms to know that this had to be one. He rather disliked having to ask what they meant when they sprang up, but there was no way out of this one.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>Julian blinked, and then the smile returned with sheepish (and wasn’t that a strange descriptor?) notes.</p>
<p>“What I mean to say is that she has bigger issues on her pla--on her agenda. There’s a lot she has to take care of. One single Cardassian isn’t going to be a priority.”</p>
<p>Garak let that thought linger, testing it out. He <i>was</i> just one single Cardassian, and she had an entire Union to slaughter. On the other hand, Martok had been one Klingon and they’d taken him captive to replace. Julian had been one human and they’d captured him. They had a list. </p>
<p>“You remind me yet again that you’ve never made real enemies, doctor.” His voice was gentle to make sure Julian took no offense, but the doctor frowned anyway.</p>
<p>“No, I can’t say I’ve gone around killing or attempting to kill people and thus earning theirs and their family’s ire, Garak, but I can calculate the likelihood of her being fixated on you specifically being rather low.”</p>
<p>Garak shook his head. “You’re missing the point. She doesn’t have to be focused or fixated. She only had to put my name on a list when she <i>was</i>. And our experience in the internment camp said that I was on a list.”</p>
<p>Julian’s frown deepened. Garak couldn’t <i>entirely</i> fault him for trying to be optimistic. It was his nature. But there wasn’t room for it here.</p>
<p>“All I ask, doctor, is that if she does succeed in killing me, make sure I’m avenged. I don’t expect you to do it. I know you. But tell Worf she insulted his honor, or perhaps remind Martok about my verse in the song. Something along those lines is what I ask. Oh! I know! You could remind Major Kira of how distracted she’d made Odo, and compare her favorably to a Founder. That should do the trick.”</p>
<p>Much to his surprise, Julian didn’t rise to the bait. Instead the doctor looked at him, stared at him, and this time Garak found he didn’t like this silence.</p>
<p>“Are you considering frying my fish now?” Absolutely misusing an idiom usually got a response from Julian, though it was a tactic he refrained from using when possible. There was no point in discounting his own intelligence, especially not in the company of a man with Augmented intelligence.</p>
<p>“She’s your enemy,” Julian said, surprising Garak.</p>
<p>“I think that’s what I’ve been saying,” Garak said slowly, trying to see where this was going.</p>
<p>“You’re not just complaining. You’re asking me to make sure your enemy doesn’t long outlive you.”</p>
<p>Ah. Apparently he was going for ‘completely accurate’ and landed it. Sometimes, even when very aware of Julian’s abilities, Garak forgot that Julian knew how to use them all with disturbing precision.</p>
<p>“You’re referring to shri-tal, of course. Let me assure you, doctor, that’s not what this is. We do that with family. I’m simply wanting to make sure she doesn’t get to enjoy my demise, that’s all,” Garak lied.</p>
<p>“Of course,” Julian said, far too readily. “You would never consider us that close. Not when I’ve been a significant part of your community for years now. Letting me witness your own father’s shri-tal is entirely unrelated to this.”</p>
<p>Moments ago Garak had been treasuring Julian’s cleverness. Now he was displeased. The gesture had meaning and therefore he wanted Julian to miss it, but of course he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.</p>
<p>“I’m amazed you haven’t figured out my intentions behind that yet.” Obfuscation was the only way out of this. While it took a rather strenuous set of steps, dancing around the doctor often brightened up his day considerably. If this was the last time he got to do this, he could treasure it instead of being annoyed. “Really. I’m impressed by how many facets you see, but how clearly you’ve missed the whole shape of that.”</p>
<p>Julian reached over, then, hand first going for Garak’s hand before he course-corrected and rested it on Garak’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“It’s all right. I’m listening. I’ll stop teasing, because I can see this is important to you.”</p>
<p>Must he fail at everything today?</p>
<p>“Doctor--”</p>
<p>“Elim.” And that shut him up. “I have faith that we’ll find a way out of this. But I also want you to feel at peace as we work on this together. This will take a weight off your shoulders, so I want to do this. For <i>you.</i> I can’t kill your enemies. I won’t promise you that. But I will listen, and watch, and if they’re enemies of the Federation I will help make sure they’re neutralized. It’s not the Cardassian way. But it’s what I can do.”</p>
<p>This. This was why he couldn’t stop returning to this man, why he had no desire to stop. Julian’s compassion was boundless, and he cared fully in a way very few in Garak’s experience ever had. Garak looked down. What else could he do, but continue?</p>
<p>“At least I know there are many already who want to deal with Dukat,” he said quietly. “Damar as well. There’s one more that still lives, though. Regnus Akot. He’s likely not on Federation’s list, but he should be on Bajor’s. There’s a rod in my rooms--”</p>
<p>“If you tell me to eat it, I’m going to kick you in the shins.”</p>
<p>Garak laughed despite himself. How he loved this impossible, infuriating man. “Not this one, my dear.”</p>
<p>“Do you think you could call me Julian? For this.”</p>
<p>A second time he was shut up. It was such an innocuous request on the surface. The doctor’s Starfleet friends called him by his given name all the time already. It didn’t hold special significance to them. It didn’t betray them, the way he felt saying it might betray him. But if this was indeed their last days together, then perhaps it was time.</p>
<p>“Behind the top front panel of my replicator, Julian, there’s a nest of wires that look live and are not. Within them is a rod with a tracking algorithm for Akot’s vessel. Pass it to Major Kira. I’m certain she’ll take care of the rest.” There. Tucked in a sentence camouflaged the way it felt, the way he treasured the sound of the doctor’s name. </p>
<p>Julian smiled and squeezed his shoulder. “I can do that. But know that we’re getting out of here. Now give me your hands.”</p>
<p>Garak blinked, heart suddenly pounding, as Julian reached for his bandaged hands and held them out despite himself. When the doctor started unwrapping one the reasoning for the request became clear. Of course. The gel had time to do its work. He wasn’t asking to hold Garak’s hands because they’d just said each others’ given names and he knew the significance of it. Julian’s hands were warm and gentle as he finished unwrapping the first and tested the movement of Garak’s fingers.</p>
<p>“Good as new,” he declared cheerfully before reaching for the second. Garak stretched the free fingers out himself now, memorizing the way Julian’s fingers had felt on his own. The doctor repeated the task, nodded to himself, and sat back against the headboard again.</p>
<p>“Well. It’s time to be cozy and then we try again in the morning, I suppose.” He kicked his shoes off and started stretching out, leaving Garak to blink at him.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” Cozy?</p>
<p>“It’s late. I’m going to get some sleep.”</p>
<p>“...This is my bed.”</p>
<p>“And your efforts soaked mine, in case you hadn’t noticed.”</p>
<p>Somehow he hadn’t. In the midst of everything else he’d entirely failed to take water and sleep into consideration. </p>
<p>“I heard humans enjoyed soaking themselves in water.”</p>
<p>Julian snorted and closed his eyes. “Warm water, yes. Cold, not so much. Don’t pretend you haven’t had to share a bed in closed quarters before. You served Cardassia.”</p>
<p>He hadn’t. The nature of the job meant sleeping next to someone was always dangerous. He hadn’t spent his life being celibate, but he’d never shared a bed for the night because the risk had been too high. </p>
<p>“There <i>was</i> that one time on Amleth Prime, now that you mention it,” Garak said, cautiously pulling up the blankets on his side of the bed and climbing in despite his sudden nerves. This was practical. It made complete sense. But he had a feeling he was going to wake up to find himself curled up with the nearest heat source and unable to pull away.</p>
<p>The doctor chuckled. “Good night, Garak.”</p>
<p>“Ah, and we’re back to family names,” he said for a lack of anything else to say. </p>
<p>“...good night, Elim.”</p>
<p>That was worse. He should have kept his mouth shut.</p>
<p>“Good night.” And he had to say it now, because he’d protested. “Julian.” He’d set himself up yet again, and even he could hear the emotions in his voice as he said the doctor’s name. The doctor didn’t reply, and Garak fell asleep unsure if that was a good thing or not.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A Beginning, Perhaps at the End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After every step forward there must of course be a step back, because that's the way Garak's luck works.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Garak wakes up exactly how he’d thought he might - curled up against Julian like a Cardassian toddler snuggled with heated toys. He can hardly be blamed. A member of an ectothermic species sharing a bed with a member of an endothermic species will always end up in this position, and of course Julian will see it that way when he wakes, if he finds Garak still against him. It was an ‘if’ that grows more likely by the moment, as Garak doesn’t want to pull away.</p>
<p>	Unfortunately, he can’t justify staying still. There’s nothing wrong with snuggling close while asleep. Staying here, pressed against the doctor’s body and admiring him, edges on territory he finds repulsive. So carefully, with a great deal of regret, Garak tries to pull back. Julian makes a quiet, sleepy noise and wraps around him even as he shifts to extricate himself and Garak stops. The doctor’s leg tangle with his and Julian lets out a quiet, contented sigh. </p>
<p>That’s it then. He’s trapped. Is he surrendering too easily? Oh, absolutely. He’s being entirely weak. But there’s a very likely chance that he’s going to die in the next day or two, so maybe it’s fine if he gives in just this once.</p>
<p>Knowing full well that it’s a mistake, Garak leans in and rests his head underneath Julian’s chin. It would have been nice to have this. Julian shifts again, this time unconsciously brushing his fingers along the small of Garak’s clothed back. It’s the lightest of warm pressure along Garak’s spinal ridge and it feels like lightning, sparking and zipping through his veins. Garak breathes out, trying to relax. Maybe he should pull away after all.</p>
<p>Before he can, Julian shifts once more and this time begins to stir, blindly shifting against him as he comes to consciousness. Garak feels when realization hits the doctor as Julian goes still. Garak mentally dashes through his options and decides that the best one is to act like there’s nothing unusual about the situation at all.</p>
<p>“Ah, you’re awake,” he says. “I did try to extricate myself but the result made me wonder if instead of a human you were a Cling-on.” It isn’t the best wordplay ever, but considering it’s delivered in flawless Federation Standard he’s satisfied with himself nonetheless. And the result is also satisfying - Julian chuckles and relaxes, beginning to untangle from the blankets and him. </p>
<p>“I guess it was a little chilly last night,” Julian says, sounding a little bashful as he gets free and stretches.</p>
<p>	Garak flashes him a completely confident smile. Clearly no harm had been done, for which he’s glad. Oh, it stings a little that Julian could assume so easily it means nothing, since that means it definitely means nothing to the doctor, but it’s nothing new.</p>
<p>	“If you’re comfortable, I will by default be a little chilled,” is all Garak says. He pulls his bag up onto the bed and starts picking through his options. What will be a good outfit to be held hostage in? Red is rather striking, and can also hide blood. The red and black outfit it is. He’s pulled it out when he realizes Julian is looking at him a little oddly. “Doctor?”</p>
<p>	“So you were cold,” Julian says. Garak had thought he could read all of the doctor’s little expressions by now, but this one is new. Unfamiliar. Troubling.</p>
<p>	“Is that a surprise?” Garak asks. He drops the bag back to the ground, clothing in hand, attention on Julian. He’s never been studied quite like this before, like he’s being weighed and measured. Rather, he’s never gotten that look so seriously from Julian before. There have been plenty of times the doctor evaluated him, but nothing quite like this.</p>
<p>	“You admitted it.”</p>
<p>	Garak sees his error then, an error that perhaps could have slipped the notice of anyone without both Julian’s perfect memory and his excellent ability to apply it.</p>
<p>	“And here you doubt that I ever tell you the truth.” Will it work as cover? </p>
<p>	“That’s the thing.” Julian’s voice is soft and his words are slower than usual. He isn’t just looking at Garak. He’s <i>seeing</i> him. It’s downright terrifying. “The point is that you tell the truth by not telling it, <i>Elim.</i>”</p>
<p>	Garak meets his gaze and isn’t sure if he regrets it or not. There’s a question in those kind brown eyes that frightens him. He’s treasured the thought of it being asked while keeping himself safe with the knowledge of its impossibility.</p>
<p>	“Is that what you think I do, Julian?” Daring Julian is not a smart move. Sometimes Garak is not a smart man.</p>
<p>	Julian shifts back onto the bed and reaches out slowly, as if expecting Garak to flinch back. They’re both surprised when Garak does nothing of the sort. The doctor’s hand cups Garak’s chin and his thumb brushes a lower orbital ridge, accompanied by that undefined thing in Julian’s eyes that Garak might tentatively call interest now.</p>
<p>	“It’s what I know you do.” His voice is scarcely a whisper. Garak thinks he can feel its volume echoing through the room.</p>
<p>	He swallows and his gaze drops from Julian’s eyes to his lips - a dead giveaway, a move he’d call sloppy if not for the fact that he’s ready to invite disaster. He has everything to lose and he’s survived losing it once before. What’s one more time?</p>
<p>	Garak makes the most honest move of his life and leans in to brush their lips together. Julian’s are warmer even than he’d fantasized about, but as smooth as he’d expected, as firm. Then Julian nibbles on Garak’s lower lip and all analysis flies out the airlock. Garak kisses him back, heart pounding in his throat as he pushes fingers into hair that’s surprisingly soft.</p>
<p>	Somewhere in there Garak’s dropped his clothing and he’s scooting back onto the bed, met by Julian who wastes no time climbing into his lap and straddling him. The speed at which things are moving, the way Julian’s not hesitating at all, makes his head spin. How is he so receptive? Why? Has something changed, or was this waiting all along? Does it matter now, of all times, when Julian’s shifting to get a leg between his and pushing him back? </p>
<p>	Garak decides it does not. Instead he grinds against Julian’s thigh, letting the doctor take the lead. The Cardassian’s hands travel up smooth, warm sides as the kiss deepens and he lets Julian’s tongue in the way he wants to let Julian in.</p>
<p>	And then there’s a pounding at the door.</p>
<p>	They freeze before springing apart, Garak straightening the tunic that’s somehow been partially opened, Julian fixing his hair.</p>
<p>	“A moment, please!” Julian yells. Garak kicks the knotted blankets under the bed, as if they matter at this point, and then steps to the side and picks up one of the table knives, nodding to the door. Julian gives him a blank look.</p>
<p>	“Get the door, Doctor.” </p>
<p>	It’s clear Julian is still a little flustered. Garak is too, but he knows how to push it back. The Cardassian makes a show of sliding the knife up his sleeve so that hopefully Julian can catch up.</p>
<p>	“Please get the door, Julian. I would prefer to have room to move if need be.”</p>
<p>	Now he gets it, and he shakes his head. It looks like he’s disappointed and Garak can’t imagine why. Does he think a kiss is enough to change who Garak is and what he does? Surely not. He’s far too intelligent for that. But instead of any sort of discussion, Julian nods and gets the door. </p>
<p>	One housekeeper pushes a cart in, along with three security officers, all men in suits that don’t quite fit right. From his vantage point Garak can see other security officers in the hall. Too many. He can’t make a move now. Garak steps back to lean against the wall, appearing as harmless as possible.</p>
<p>	“You have thirty minutes for breakfast,” one of the armed men says, looking at the soaked room and wrecked console. Doubtlessly a few were wrecked like that.</p>
<p>	“Thirty minutes?” Julian asks, sparing Garak from needing to. Good. The less he’s remembered the better if he’s to attempt something.</p>
<p>	“Everyone’s eating and then being brought down into the common area. We have some company that wants to meet the guests.” This is another of the guards. He seems entirely unbothered, and Garak wonders if the staff got some assurances that eases their concerns about handing people over to the Jem’Hadar.</p>
<p>	“Company?” Garak asks, making sure to speak before Julian this time. He doesn’t trust the doctor to not reveal what they already know.</p>
<p>	Now the officers look uncomfortable. The housekeeper’s finished putting food on the table and is in a clear rush to get out of the room. He doesn’t want to talk about this either, apparently.</p>
<p>	“Everyone will be safe,” the first officer says. He doesn’t look convincing. He doesn’t sound convincing. Then again, no one can convince Garak that they’ll be safe in Dominion hands.<br/>	“You don’t sound sure of that,” Julian says. “I’m a doctor with Starfleet, and I’ve been on the frontlines of several things several times. Can I help?”</p>
<p>	The two who have spoken exchange looks, and the first one pulls off his shades as if to actually look at Julian and Garak both.</p>
<p>	“I’ll mention it to our boss,” he says, “that’s all I can do.”</p>
<p>	“Of course,” Garak says smoothly. Now they’re going to stand out after all. Sometimes he thinks he should give Julian some coaching, but the life of an agent isn’t one Julian will ever be suited for.</p>
<p>	The officers nod and leave, and Garak takes the chance to see more of the hall as they go, pretending to just move forward to close the door. He can see a dozen armed men, and while in his prime he might have been cocky enough to take them on, he’s not in his prime now. And he has a civilian to think about. He lets the door close.</p>
<p>	“Breakfast, then,” Julian says to his side, and Garak’s suddenly back in the moment, as well as the moment before the door had been knocked on.</p>
<p>	“Just breakfast, doctor?” he asks lightly. Looking over and keeping his expression mild takes a great deal of willpower, but Garak’s at least quite good at that.</p>
<p>	Julian flushes, a rather beautiful look on an already beautiful face, and he shrugs. “I prefer to take my time, the first time. And I don’t… I generally know Cardassian anatomy, now. But it’s new.”</p>
<p>	“Ah. I’m an it now, now that you’re adding me to your conquest list.” There’s a wicked edge to Garak’s amusement, a deliberate attempt at provocation.</p>
<p>	Julian flushes all the more. “No! Not at all! I mean, you--” he stops, then, clueing in. While it was Julian’s body that drew Garak’s eye initially, it’s his brain that’s kept Garak interested all of this time. “Breakfast, Garak. We have to eat if we’re going to deal with this.”</p>
<p>	He’s disappointed. Very disappointed. He’d had Julian against him, briefly, he’d had his lips and his hands and of course it had to go wrong. </p>
<p>	“Then breakfast, doctor,” he says as if it’s entirely fine. He’ll make it be fine. After all, the chance of even having this much had been basically zero until this trip. “And then we’ll see how smart the Vorta leading this company is.”</p>
<p>	And if they make it through this, then he has a great many questions for the doctor. After a great many activities if he has any luck and anything to say in the matter.</p>
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